


Family affairs

by Sunny_may



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Childhood, Depression, Family, Family Feels, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21905785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunny_may/pseuds/Sunny_may
Summary: The present fanfic is reunion of Thomas and his sister. Dont know but that idea haunt me from very long time. I wish to belive there is good future for them both and Thomas have real family besides his co-workers .
Relationships: Thomas Barrow & Elsie Hughes, Thomas Barrow & Phyllis Baxter, Thomas Barrow/Original Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	1. Sudden storm...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I must thank to Romantika (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantika/pseuds/Romantika) who edit that chapter and truly help a lot for the improvment of the story!!! THANK YOU!

Sudden storm...  
An hour later, the doctor left the room, along with Mr. Carson, who had observed his treatment in silence. Anna, Miss Baxter, Andy and Mrs. Hughes had already reluctantly gone down to dinner, with concern etched on all their faces.  
The hallway below stairs felt hollow and empty, as if Thomas’ condition was casting a deadly pall over everything.  
Dr. Clarkson spoke for the first time since he had seen his patient: “I will not lie to you - his condition is not good and the next few days will be critical. I think he is out of immediate danger, but there is still a risk of complications. The fragility of his mental cannot be overstated. I would advise that there be someone with him at all times. He will certainly need a friendly shoulder, but I think that given the situation, his relatives should be notified of what has happened. Is there anyone who can be contacted?”  
“To be honest, I know little about his family”, answered Mrs Hughes, “he hardly ever spoke of them.” She shrugged a little, and changed the subject, “Is there any particular way we can help Thomas during the coming days?”  
“Just someone being there will be important for now, but somehow we also need to convince him that life is worth living. During the next couple of days he’ll probably be mainly unconscious, only awake for short periods, but even then there should be someone with him who can talk to him – even if he doesn’t answer he will hear. Physically speaking, he’s lost a lot of blood, so regaining consciousness at all will be difficult for him: he’s in a state of what we call hypovolemic shock, with low blood pressure and a fast, weak pulse. Therefore, when he does wake up he needs to be given as much fluid as possible. He won’t be able to start eating right away either, and will need to start on something liquid and easy to swallow. He will also be extremely tired, and , even if all goes well, won’t be able to get out of bed for at least a week. I repeat that emotional support and friendship are vital. In his present state, he doesn’t need to be in hospital, but, should his condition worsen, call me at once. In any case, I’ll be to see him again in the morning.”  
“Thank you very much, Doctor!” said Mr. Carson, escorting the doctor out. As he did so, he murmured, “I’ll make sure all possible care is taken.”  
Carson returned to the servants’ hall, where everyone else was waiting to eat. Usually, there was a feeling of relieved success in the air, with each servant having survived a difficult and tiring day; now at last they could think of relaxing with a favourite activity. Not tonight, however: a life had been saved, but there was an ongoing battle to preserve it. Carson reported Thomas’ sudden illness to everyone and decided who would care for him. He also asked to see Miss Baxter in his office after dinner.  
***  
Immediately after dinner Mrs Hughes went up to Thomas's room. It was almost dark and strangely quiet, the silence only broken by the young man’s rapid breathing, as he lay in his narrow bed, radiating a strange calm and beauty. Wrapped in a thick blanket, his head on a large white pillow, and his black hair contrasting sharply with the snow-white pillowcase., he looked very small, very vulnerable, very ill – things she had never seen in him before. To her mind, the images of the sick man before her and the tall, strong and confident man she knew seemed to belong to two different people. Deep down, she could not accept this change, which had only come about a few hours before.  
She sat down by the bed and stared at Thomas. For now, the causes of what had happened to him seemed so much less important than his winning the battle for life. Mrs. Hughes had no children in the true sense of the word, but thought of many of her younger colleagues as such - especially Anna and Thomas. If Anna was the kind and good daughter, then Thomas was the naughty son who always got into trouble. She leaned over towards him and took him by the arm. He was so cold that she looked at him closely for a moment, just to make sure he was still breathing. Instinctively, she put her other hand on his, as if to try to warm him up.  
“Fight my boy, be strong!” she whispered. “Now it’s up to you.”  
***  
Miss Baxter, meanwhile, was sitting pale-faced in front of Mr Carson. He broke the awkward silence:  
“Miss Baxter, I'm not going to lie to you, the situation is not good at all. The next few days will be critical. Dr Clarkson advised me to call Thomas’ relatives, and I know that you are the only one of us who know them at all. Do you still have any contact with them?”  
Visibly tired and upset, Baxter sighed, “It's quite pointless for me to write to his father. Even if I did, I don’t think it would have any effect. Before Thomas came here, his father had driven him out of the family home, and forbidden his sister to have any contact with him. His mother died a long time ago. I will write to his sister, but I have no idea whether that will produce a positive response …”  
“Let's try at least!” replied Carson. Miss Baxter nodded and left the room.  
This evening was especially difficult for her. On leaving Carson, she headed up to the men's wing to see her friend. When she reached his room, she even knocked on the door, though she knew how pointless it was and that in all likelihood no one would answer. She walked in. On the chair beside the bed sat Mrs. Hughes. In the half-light, the wrinkles on her face seemed even deeper, and she looked very tired.  
“How is he?” asked Baxter.  
“Just the same. Not good. He hasn't woken up yet … I don't know what we can do for him …”  
“Nothing, except sitting and waiting … and hoping he’ll come back to us.” Phyllis sat on the bed and laid he hands on Thomas’ legs as she gazed at his pale face. “I’ll write to his sister … I doubt it will do any good, but I will write to her.”  
“Do you think that's a good idea?”  
“I honestly don't know ... they loved one other very much, but their father built high walls between them.”  
Mrs. Hughes sighed.  
Phyllis continued, “I imagine Mr. Carson is waiting for you. Go on home. I'll stay.”  
The older woman agreed and got to her feet, “I hope everything goes well tonight!"  
Phyllis sat down in the chair. For the first time that evening, she was alone and felt free. She waited for the door to close and burst into tears. How had she allowed this to happen? Thomas had said again and again that he could no longer see any reason to live, but she had not understood his all-encompassing misery and that he really considered ending it all.  
She sat and gazed at him, so small and helpless, just as if they were children again, as if he were a child and she was staring at him, the older boy … When was he going to wake up? Would he wake up at all? She so much wanted Thomas to open his eyes at once, so that she could stroke him on the cheek and ask him "How are you? … It’s all right, I'm here!". But that wasn't happening … She remembered Louise … how happy she was to find out she had a little brother. She remembered Thomas taking his first steps ... She remembered how she, Thomas, and Louise went to school together ... she remembered the first day his father told him he would pass on his craft to him ... how happy Thomas was ... it was strange how much then he looked like the man who was now lying before her in the bed … now in his weakness, he looked so young … Then she remembered how upset Louise was when Thomas had to leave their home, never to return …  
Miss Baxter decided that she would write to Louise, whatever it cost her. She got up and found pen and ink and a sheet of paper in one of the cabinets where Thomas kept his personal belongings. She couldn't remember ever writing a more difficult letter, but she knew it had to be written:

  
_Dear Louise,_   
_I haven't written to you in a long time, our ways having parted so strangely. Things have happened to me that I would rather speak of to you in person than in a letter. How are you? I hope you're well…_   
_I'm really writing to you about Thomas. Louise, he's very sick. It’s very bad and the doctor is only vaguely optimistic about his improvement. I would be so happy if you could come to him, whether he regains consciousness or not… just to be with him._   
_I hope this finds you at the same address._   
_Your Phyllis_

  
The next day passed without much change in Thomas' condition. From time to time he would stir, but was never fully conscious. During the evening his temperature rose, and Mrs. Hughes immediately called Dr. Clarkson.  
“His temperature is quite high. I think he developed an infection from open wounds on his hands. I have given him something which should reduce the fever … we must hope for an improvement, since, in his current state, a high temperature can prove fatal. He is so weak. I can barely predict how things will develop. We can only sit and wait. I am concerned that he has not yet fully regained consciousness.”  
“So we just sit and wait?” the old woman repeated.  
“Yes.”  
Phyllis and Mrs. Hughes sat next to Thomas and watched him in silence.  
“I wrote to his sister .. I don't know if she'll come ... I don't even know whether she received my letter …”  
Mrs. Hughes was putting another cold compress on the young man's forehead. She pursed her lips, “I feel like he has really given up on his life. And then this infection ... I don't know how we let all this happen ... He was always so strong ... I could never have imagined this happening at all ...”  
Phyllis looked at the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
“I've known him since I was a little girl. His life has never been easy. He couldn’t find a place where he belonged, or anyone who understood him. I think he became alienated from everyone ...”  
At that moment, Thomas stirred and opened his eyes slightly. Sweat was streaming down his face. He moved very slowly, glancing away and whispering, “Philly… I'm sorry… I’m so sorry…”  
Phyllis leaned over him and stroked his cheek.  
“You have nothing to be sorry for! Now, just concentrate on getting better. Here, take a sip of water, you’ll feel better.”  
“I ... I don't want …” He tried to sit up. Phyllis held his head up, and he managed a few sips.  
“That’s right, drink … get better … tomorrow everything will be better ...”  
“Philly… let me go. I…” His words blurred together and he drifted off.  
Still in tears, Phyllis was holding his hand, and kept saying, "Don't sleep, Thomas, please don't sleep," but it was too late. He sank back into his feverish dreams.  
Mrs. Hughes hugged the sobbing woman and said again and again that everything would be all right.


	2. Things to remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with the second chapter . Thank you, thank you for the reading. I must thanks again to (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantika/pseuds/Romantika) who edit that chapter too !!

The next day began like any other. The servants had gathered for their early breakfast in the Hall. Only Phyllis was absent: she refused to leave Thomas.  
There was a knock at the back door. One of the hall boys went to open it and a minute later returned with a woman in her late thirties. She was tall, well dressed, wearing a cherry-red coat, and a matching hat with a black feather. Her black hair fell across her porcelain-white face. Her eyes were gray with light hints of blue. She said nothing.  
“This is Mrs Davis, come on a personal visit,” said the boy. “Come to see a close relative,” he added, realising he hadn't asked who she was coming to see.  
Everyone at the table looked at the strange lady questioningly.  
“May I ask why you are here ... Mrs. Davis?” said Mr Carson disapprovingly.  
“I'm looking for Miss Phyllis Baxter.”  
“She's not here just at the moment. May we pass on a message to her?” continued the butler.  
“Just tell her, sir, that Louise Davis was looking for her. Barrow is my maiden name, perhaps she only knows me by that …”  
Mrs Hughes jumped to her feet, “Come with me now, please. This way!”  
As they went up the stairs, they did not speak, and when they got to Thomas’ room, Mrs. Hughes opened the door, invited Louise inside, and retired.  
She was glad to see her old girlfriend, hurrying over to her and hugging her, smiling the while. Over Phyllis’ shoulder she could see Thomas, the brother she had not seen for years. The sight terrified her, and she moved quickly over to the bed.  
“Tommy … Tommy! Thomas! Can you hear me? I'm here! It’s Louise !? … Please wake up, Tommy!” She sobbed, but Thomas didn't move. “Phyllis! What happened? What is the matter with him? Why doesn’t he answer me?”  
“Louise, sit down, calm down! I'll explain everything!”  
Trembling, Louise sat down in the chair beside the bed.  
“It all started a long time ago, but … all of us here are to blame for where things are now …” Her voice shook. “He … he only regained consciousness briefly yesterday, and since then we are just waiting and waiting … the doctor is coming to examine him again this evening …”  
Louise leaned over her brother - they looked so alike. She caressed his face, and again asked him to wake up. She shook his shoulder and wept. After a while, she realised it was no good, and just sat there, crying silently. Was she too late?  
“Lou ...” it was barely audible “... Lou? You’re here?  
“Tommy! Tommy, you're awake. I’m so … so sorry … sorry, my dear … for all those years ...”  
“You're here ...” he mumbled again, his eyes wet with tears.  
“Yes, I'm here, and I won't leave you again till you're well again. Can you hear me? I won’t leave you!”  
Phyllis intervened “Lou, give him some water! He is so dry he can hardly talk.”  
Louise held Thomas’ head up and helped him to drink. He just gazed at her, as if trying to remember the last time he had seen her. Then he leant back on the pillow and closed his eyes. “Why did you come?” he softly asked.  
Louise could hardly hold back her tears. “Get some more sleep now, Thomas! We'll talk tomorrow.” She smiled.  
Thomas did sink back to sleep, leaving the two childhood friends alone. They hadn't seen each other in many years, their very different lives having sent them far apart. Just then, though, being thrown together like this felt like enough cause for a real reunion.  
“What happened? How did he come to this?” asked Louise.  
Phyllis stared down at the floor again. Where to start?  
“Let's talk about it all tomorrow. You need to rest as well. You’ve come a long way,” she added, without knowing just how far.  
“I don't want to leave him, Philly! I gave up on him for too long. Let me stay here tonight. I can see you need some sleep too … Philly…. thank you for taking care of him.”  
Louise hugged Phyllis, just like she used to all those years ago.  
Neither woman could be sure something good would come out of all this in the end.  
All night Louise stayed with her brother. Although a room had been provided for her, she watched over him through all the dark hours, sitting in that chair by his bed. Unlike the first days of his illness, he no longer lay still, but was restless, probably from fever, so now and again she changed the cold compress on his forehead. Towards dawn, she looked at his gauze-bound wrists, and noticed that the cuts there were bleeding again. There was a bottle of alcohol on the night-stand by the bed, so she used some to treat the wounds … she noticed the raw edges of the inflammation around the razor marks, the depth of the cuts before they were sewn. How had he come to this? She looked for other drugs on the cabinet, but there were none … the doctor would be coming at some point …  
Shortly after sunrise, Thomas woke up. He looked a little better, as if he was coming to himself. Louise, exhausted, was fast asleep in the chair, holding her head in one hand, and Thomas’ hand in the other. Though he still felt very weak, he smiled a little, so warm and soothing was the touch of another human being. The pain in his wrists was dreadful, and he neither wanted to move nor could he. Despite his fever, he kept gazing at her, as if she were a hallucination or a ghost who had come to visit him in his fever-dream.  
Louise felt her brother move, however slightly, and woke up from her own fragile dream. As she did so, she saw him almost laughing in his sleep – she looked at him and smiled. Then she heard a low voice, almost a whisper:  
“Good morning, sister. I hope you’ve had a bit of rest.”  
She started out of the chair, without letting go of Thomas’ hand – he groaned in pain.  
“Thomas, sorry … sorry … how are you ? How do you feel?”  
“Tired, terribly tired,” he replied. She looked at his face. He was still as white as a sheet, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked distinctly strange, and this was emphasised by the fact that he had not taken any solid food since the day of the … incident.  
“Just lie down and rest. You will be all right - we need to just stop the infection and you'll be back on your feet in a matter of days, you’ll see!”  
At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Dr. Clarkson came in. He was pleased to see his patient conscious and even in a positive mood.  
“Good morning, Thomas! I'm glad to see you awake. I see you have a visitor,” he said, smiling at Louise.  
“This is my sister Louise,” he answered. Sweat was pouring down his face, and she mopped at it.  
“Pleased to meet you, though I'm here to examine your brother, as you know.” He paused.  
“Yes, but if it's not a problem, I'd like to stay during the examination.”  
“Let her stay”, Thomas whispered  
“All right”, agreed Dr. Clarkson, “let's see how you are.” He smiled. “Can you sit up?”  
“I don't think so …”  
But Louise leaned over and pulled her brother gently up, with an arm round his so he could sit upright. With the other she unbuttoned his pajamas and waited for the doctor.  
“Will that suffice?” she smiled.  
“Yes, and thank you!” said Clarkson, pleasantly surprised. He took out his stethoscope and listened. He carefully measured his heart rate and blood pressure. He then took one of his hands to see how the wounds were healing. He was again surprised to find that the dressings had been recently replaced and the wound cleaned.  
“I changed his dressings earlier this morning – he was bleeding through the old ones. I saw only alcohol on the cabinet, and was wondering if washing with iodine would not be better. Might that reduce the infection and lower Thomas’ temperature?” Louise asked. “Maybe a quinine injection ... ?”  
Both doctor and patient looked at her dumbfounded.  
“Yes, I’ll do that”, said Clarkson. “Are you … er … involved in medicine?  
“Not exactly, but I have some experience” She smiled  
Dr. Clarkson nodded, but asked no more questions.  
“You and your brother clearly have similar interests.” He smiled.  
Louise smiled at Thomas awkwardly.  
Clarkson cleaned Thomas’ wrists with iodine, and reapplied the gauze dressings.  
“Will you be able to remove the top so I can…” the doctor shook the glass syringe.  
“Yes. Here you are,” she said.  
After the injection, Clarkson buttoned Thomas’ pyjamas. “I think he’s doing well, slowly, slowly, getting better. His blood pressure is higher than before, and the heart rate is improving. So a good recovery is in the offing, but, Thomas, you need a lot more rest. I'll be back tomorrow at the same time.” He turned to Louise again, “Meanwhile, start trying to get him to eat properly. I think that should be possible now, and I’m sure you know how important it is!”  
“I do indeed – we’ll start on solids today!” replied Louise.  
“Excellent. I’ll see you both tomorrow. Until then …” He nodded to them both and left the room.  
Just after noon Phyllis brought up a tray with chicken soup and bread-and-butter.  
“How is he? I’ve brought some food, as the doctor ordered.”  
“He's better. He's sleeping, but he still has a bit of a temperature. It bothers me that he doesn't talk much.”  
“Yes, this also bothers me. In the days before ... before all this happened, he had become so silent. In fact, he changed a lot over a long period, closed himself in, hardly communicated with anyone. Louise, how long is it since you were in touch with him?”  
The other woman looked at the floor guiltily. Phyllis thought she would cry, but there were no tears, Louise just oozed shame and guilt.  
“It must be fifteen years. After Dad kicked him out, we wrote to each other for a while, but shortly afterwards he stopped. I don't know what happened … then the war started. I thought that might be the reason, but even after it was over, I no longer heard from him. I wrote several times, but the letters came back unopened … I guess he was on the front… all that horror …”  
“He was wounded,” Phyllis said, sighing. She gently moved the blanket that was covering Thomas, and, careful not to wake him, pulled out his left hand and showed his scar. “This … he was in Flanders. He’d been in the trenches for two years. He was injured while serving in a medical unit. The doctor who examined him this morning was his commander when he returned to England.”  
“So that was what he meant.”  
“Yes,” said Phyllis.  
“Philly, maybe it's time to wake him and give him something to eat.”  
“It might be a bit early, but let's try.” The other woman nodded.  
Louise gently poked Thomas’ shoulder.  
“Wake up, Tommy, rise and shine”, she whispered gently.  
He stirred awkwardly and opened his eyes a bit. Every movement was still a great effort and cost him a lot of energy. His sister got the soup bowl ready, deftly took him by the shoulders and lifted him higher up the pillows so that he could swallow more easily. She slowly brought the spoon to his mouth - he could really hardly eat anything. Lousie did this several times, until Thomas just started shaking his head to show he could eat no more. His sister took the cloth left on the bedside table and wiped his mouth. He looked at her gratefully but said nothing. Then she brought over a glass of water and gave him a drink. This time he smiled.  
“You've done this before, haven't you?” whispered Thomas softly.  
“Yes.” She nodded affirmatively. “It’s my job. I'm a nurse at a hospital in Manchester.  
Thomas smiled again. “You've found a good job. I hope it brings you happiness ...”  
“Did it bring you any? You did that sort of thing too ... in the war,” she said  
“Yes, I suppose so. It wasn't my idea at first, but things changed. I began to realise the importance of what I might do. I was a medical orderly at the front, then at the hospital in the village and finally here at the Abbey. I wished I could have stayed at the village hospital after the war, but things didn't work out ... just like everything else in my life,” he finished bitterly. It was as if he had just realized an unpleasant truth. “They didn't need me... as usual ...”  
Thomas's face had had some colour in it that morning, but now his voice dropped and he turned pale again.  
“That’s not true, and you know it. Better sleep now. You’ll feel better soon.” She smiled at him again and covered him with the blanket. He smiled back a little, not only feeling the warmth of the blanket, but also the warmth that Louise gave him.


	3. Rolling in the deep...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am posting that more late than i expect but holidays was busy. I think finally come to the desired title of the work.
> 
> The present chapter is shorter but the storyline goes more slowly than i expect. :)  
> Happy new 2020 year :)

In the late afternoon, Mrs. Hughes appeared at the door. Louise was dozing in the chair beside her brother's bed, her head resting on her arm. Her face was lined with fatigue. The housekeeper looked at the woman, then at Thomas - they were so much alike. What had separated them, such that they hadn’t seen one another for so many years? Was that even their choice?  
The older woman quietly moved closer to the younger so as not to startle her, and put her hand lightly on her back.  
“Go and sleep properly, my dear! I've prepared a bed and a room for you. You can put your things in there. You must be so tired: two days you’ve been here, and always watching over him. Don’t worry, he will heal now. He’s always been a fighter and isn’t about to give up.”  
“I don't want to leave him ... I don't want him to be alone - he's always been afraid of loneliness. At least now I want to be with him. I owe him that, after…” she stopped suddenly.  
Mrs. Hughes looked at her with interest and sympathy.  
“You won't help him if you get sick yourself. I’ll look after him for a while. I won’t leave him, I promise…” She took Louise's hands in hers and squeezed them affectionately. “Go and rest.”  
“All right, I will. Thank you.”  
“Please come down to dinner as well. Don’t worry about the others, no-one will mind,” continued Mrs Hughes.  
“I don’t want to abuse your hospitality.”  
“You’re not – now go …”  
Louise smiled slightly. She stroked Thomas's face and smoothed his hair, and quietly left the room. Mrs. Hughes took her place, and began to embroider a piece of tapestry she had brought with her. After a while, she went out into the hall, called one of the hall boys and asked him to bring up two cups of tea. They arrived soon after, and Thomas was already stirring. He smiled when he saw the housekeeper sitting beside him.  
“Good evening, my dear. How are you?” She asked.  
“Better, I think. Where's Louise?”  
“She went to have a little sleep. She hasn’t left you for two whole days, she needs to rest.”  
“That’s the truth. She's a very good person. She has always been better than me … I do wish we hadn’t always been so far apart.”  
“What happened between you?” Mrs. Hughes asked sadly.  
Thomas tried to sit up, but couldn’t. He pushed himself with his hands, but that hurt his wrists so he stopped. Mrs Hughes helped prop him up on some more pillows – just the fact that he wanted to sit up was a good sign.  
“Are you all right? Are you in a lot of pain?”  
“I’m fine. It only hurts a little, it’ll go away in a moment”, he replied.  
Mrs. Hughes smiled.  
“Would you like some tea?”  
“Yes, please. Thank you.”  
She handed him the cup, but his hands trembled so that he could hardly hold it. She helped him to drink.  
When he had finished, she put her hand to his forehead. At last, his temperature had dropped.  
“Do you feel a little more like yourself?”  
“I think so … not so exhausted … You know, Mrs Hughes, I … I don't remember what happened ...”  
Mrs. Hughes took a breath. She never wanted, even in her thoughts, to go back to the day when Andy stormed into her office and reported breathlessly that Thomas had made an attempt on his own life. She remembered running up the stairs, not knowing what she would find. She remembered the first time she saw him in the bath, and Phyllis drying his deathly pale face with a flannel. She remembered the trouble they had to get him out of the bath, how she cried when Andy wrapped him in a blanket to carry him to his room. She remembered watching the doctor sew his wrists, when he did not flinch even once, wondering, does he feel pain from the needle ... she remembered the blood flowing onto the doctor's hands. Then she also remembered Clarkson saying that in the end Thomas would recover, and so, after a moment, she realised that she owed the young man an answer.  
“Andy and Miss Baxter found you. They saved you. Anna went for the doctor. For about two days you were unconscious. You know the rest.”  
“How did you find Louise?” he asked.  
Phyllis wrote to her.  
“We… weren't sure … whether you would ...” she paused “We wanted you to be with your family...”  
Thomas smiled bitterly.  
“Hmm ... how is everyone downstairs?” he asked drowsily.  
“Everyone is glad to know you are getting better.” Mrs Hughes could see he was already getting sleepy, so she gently removed the extra pillows. As he lay down, he fell asleep again.  
“Yes, my dear, sleep now,” she whispered.  
***  
Since her arrival at Downton, Louise had only had time for Thomas, seeing only him, Phyllis and occasionally Mrs Hughes. The next morning was little different. On waking, she didn’t go down for breakfast, but went straight to her brother’s room, where she found a young woman, apparently pregnant, her blond hair tucked up in a chignon. Thomas was awake, and just reaching out for the hot cup of tea set before him on a tray. He looked at his sister and smiled.  
“Anna, meet Louise, my sister!” he said, still smiling.  
“Pleased to meet you,” replied Anna. “I'll leave you now, and come back for the tray later.”  
Louise walked over and took her place by the bed.  
“How do you feel today?” she asked.  
“Much better, I think! Maybe I'll be able to get back to work soon … that is, if they still want me,” he added, looking rather downcast.  
“Well, you should certainly start getting out of bed soon. We can’t have you lounging about all day,” she added jokingly, “but you’ll need to be careful, and there’s no rush. Do you feel ready to try a walk round the room today?”  
“I do rather. Everything hurts from just lying here.”  
“That’s no surprise! You haven’t been out of bed for ages. And I also need to change your dressings. Now, come on, finish your breakfast, and then we’re going for a walk.”  
“Did you have breakfast? You look tired.”  
“I'll eat later.”  
Thomas pushed the plate of toast and marmalade towards her and smiled.  
“Come on, have some, I can’t eat all this.”  
She smiled gratefully, “thank you.”  
“Do you remember once ... do you remember how we used to have breakfast together at home? Before ...” there was a sad memory in his eyes.  
“Before mother died… could anyone have guessed… mother… dad… you… I wish that you’d stayed at home then…”  
“You know there was no way that could have happened”, said Thomas lamely, staring at the blanket on his bed.  
A heavy silence fell, which neither of them wished to break. Then …  
“He remarried ... did you know?”  
“No.”  
“Shortly after you left. There was less work coming in, and I left home soon thereafter, so he was free, I suppose.” Louise paused. “Her name is Jane …”  
“So he got rid of you too! What was his problem with you?”  
“I suppose he wanted to start afresh. She's not the sweetest of women.” Louise sighed.  
“I miss mother sometimes. Everything was different when she was alive,” continued Thomas, bowing his head. “The only family I ever had… and will ever have….  
“Don’t say that! I’m family, aren’t I? And I’m here … And I won’t leave you this time. Anyway, you have another family as well.”  
He looked at her questioningly.  
“Oh, yes, and who are they?” he asked with an ironic smile.  
“All the people here! They’re all so nice, so good, and they care about you especially.”  
“You think so? And, pray, how did you arrive at that conclusion?”  
“ From the fact that you’re here at all!” replied Louis, almost annoyed. “If it weren’t for them, you most probably wouldn’t be. Maybe you don’t realise just how ill you were when I arrived. They were frightened to death that they might lose you and were watching over you night and day. As I said before, I work in a hospital – do you know how many really sick people die without their families watching over them? No, if it weren’t for the people here, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”  
Thomas remained silent, looking down at the bed. Louise couldn't tell if he was taking on board what she had said, or just didn’t know how to reply. She slowly reached out and took his hand. It was then she noticed that he was shivering, so she moved over and sat down on the bed. Slowly she put her hand around his shoulders, unsure how he would react. Since her arrival his moods had been so changeable, from helplessness to intense anger, from despair to hope, from feeling worthless to at last, maybe, having some hope for the future. He didn’t flinch, so she dared to hug him, and could feel how weak he was from the toll the sickness had taken. Slowly the trembling in his body became less, and he seemed to be calm. Thomas rested his head on Louise's shoulder and closed his eyes as though to make the most of this moment. He was just enjoying the warmth of his sister's body, and for the first time in many years, felt he had a friendly shoulder to lean on.  
She stroked his back and whispered softly, “Everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see. Give me your hands!”  
He did, and looked into her eyes - she gazed back lovingly. Then she looked at the bandages around his wrists, and unwrapped them: the wounds had begun to heal, and the inflammation was fading.  
“They look much better. We’ll have to wait for Dr Clarkson to remove the stitches, and then all will be well.”  
He looked at her and took a deep breath.  
“Thomas, I think it's time for you to rest now.”  
He nodded and tried to adjust his pillows. Louise waved his hands away and did it for him.  
“You too ... I'll be fine ...” he whispered, slowly closing his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I left that work for a quite a lot of time but now i decide to continue cause i came with some fresh ideas. :)  
> So that chapter is transition for what happends next , that the reason its so short.
> 
> I must thanks again to (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantika/pseuds/Romantika) who edit 3 & 4 chapter too !!

Chapter 4  
Louise had been at Downton for an entire week, but hadn’t left the house once. Her train had arrived at night and so she had seen little of the village and the Abbey’s beautiful grounds. When Phyllis came to take over watching Thomas, she suggested that Louise take a walk outside the estate. As she walked down the gravel drive, she heard a voice calling her from behind.  
“Mrs. Davis, wait for me!”  
Louise turned and saw the blond woman who had been taking care of Thomas earlier that morning.  
“Mrs. Bates, isn't it?” she asked hesitantly.  
“Anna, please! Where are you going?”  
“To the village, I suppose. I don't really know how to get there … Phyllis is with him,” she added, with a smile.  
“I'm on my way to the grocer’s, then I could show you round the whole village, and we could end up at the tea-shop – the cakes are wonderful!  
“You are very kind, thank you.”  
“So you live in Manchester?” Anna asked.  
“Yes. I'm a nurse at the City Hospital.”  
Anna smiled cautiously. “It seems…”  
“Yes, I know, Thomas and I have a lot in common!”  
“You certainly do”. Louise’s manner of speech was so like Thomas’s.  
“Thank you very much for taking care of him. It means a lot to me … and to him, but he obviously doesn't realise that yet. He has changed a great deal … I wonder why he thinks he is so unwanted by everyone… I’m sorry to go on about this, but it’s hard for me to put it all together.”  
“Look, Mrs. Davis,” Anna began, “Thomas is not … an easy man. You know about his …”  
“Yes, I do,” said Louise, shortly.

“I don't know how to tell you about it all, so that it makes sense to you. Thomas has always had a mean side, as well as, sometimes, a foul temper, but in recent months he seemed to become more silent, more closed down. He found it harder and harder to talk to anyone and went into some sort of self-imposed isolation.” Anna’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Maybe that should have been a sign to us all … that this … God … that something …” She sighed, “Thomas always seemed a strange man, but we all thought him strong as well as proud and distant. Perhaps that's why no-one saw how much he was suffering. Behind his usual “difficult” demeanour, he was always capable of goodness, I knew that – I always thought him a good man, deep down. But now I think he was just so terribly lonely …”

Louise sat and listened to Anna's story with tears in her own eyes that were harder and harder for her to hold back.

“The fact that he was going to be sacked after all these years at Downton, was, I think, the straw that broke the camel’s back. He looked for a new position for months, but couldn’t find anything. And this wasn’t the first time: he nearly lost his job just before war broke out, and then, when that was all over and there was no longer any work for him at the cottage hospital, he tried to start a business. That didn’t work out either, so he came back to the house, and once nearly got the push again. In the end, though, he was promoted to “under-butler”, but I think he realised that his position was never secure, and that he might not have a future, here … or anywhere else.”  
“How did this particular turn of events come about?” Louise asked.  
Anna sighed and closed her eyes as though she never really wanted to remember.  
“Miss Baxter found him in the bathroom. Andy, the footman, broke down the door to reach him. Thomas was lying in the bath, which was full of bloody water. I called the doctor. Andy carried him to his room. I saw him while we waited: he was deathly white and didn’t move. At first I thought that ... that we were too late… It was difficult to believe we weren’t … God … Dr Clarkson said it was a matter of a few minutes, that Thomas was so lucky Miss Baxter and Andy had found him … otherwise …”  
She burst into tears. Everything she felt about the whole business came pouring out, and Louise grabbed her trembling hands. Then she took a deep breath and exhaled noisily, looking away. So, for years Thomas had been trying to keep up this façade, had never written to her to ask for help … but perhaps it was all her fault: she had turned her back on him as well.  
“Mrs. Bates … Anna … Maybe we should go back.” Anna nodded in agreement.  
Louise didn’t say much as they walked back to the house. She stared at the road, deep in thought and seemingly oblivious to the beauty around her.  
Anna interrupted her reverie. “I thought it would be nice to do something to cheer Thomas up. Lady Mary would like to bring her son George to visit him, but she’s decided to wait a little longer, so that Thomas feels more up to it. He would love to see the child, he adores him utterly.”  
“Does he still dance?”  
“Of course - he’s the best dancer of us all!”  
“So some things never change,” said Louise with a smile.  
***  
When they got back to the Abbey Thomas was again asleep. Miss Baxter was with him.  
“How is he now?” asked Louise.  
“He’s just finished his lunch. He ate a lot more than yesterday. He really is making progress!”  
“Indeed so. When he is well enough I wonder whether he could be allowed to come away with me for a few days. There is something I want him to see, which I think will make him happy. In any case, I think it would do him good to get away from here for a while.”  
“I think His Lordship might allow that, especially given the circumstances.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. As always comments and critics are very welcome :)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if its not good enough . This is my very first try so i will try to give my best


End file.
